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Saturday, December 2, 2000

Somehow the diet that I was so dedicated to for awhile seems to have disintegrated at about the same time my blender did. Since I couldn't stick to the Slim-Fast plan without a blender, I made compromises, which quickly turned into full-blown surrender.

Sure, I could've gone right out and bought a new blender, but you know how it's a poor workman who blames his tools? Well, it's a poor dieter who blames his appliances.

It was just too easy to lapse, so I must have been ready to do exactly that. With the holidays here, I don't have much incentive to get strict with myself again. Cookies will be baked, and will be partaken of. It's the natural order of things.

That's why we have January, to take care of our failings and weaknesses. Resolutions seem so righteous when I make them that it doesn't really matter how long I take to break them.

I could go to bed every night swearing to get up early the next morning and work diligently all day, and I'll feel good about myself for however long I actually believe I'll follow through. I can make myself over 365 times next year, a little better each time. Imagine what an improvement I'll have made by the time 2002 rolls around.

Anyway, I'm giving myself a break from now till the end of the month. Sometimes it seems that I'm always giving myself a break, but I'm always hard on myself at the same time.

It's as if I exist in two dimensions, opposite but parallel. In one I'm relaxed, happy with the way I am and how things are. In the other, I'm forever striving, trying to reach something that stays barely out of my grasp.

In truth, I'm not sure which version is better, or closer to reality. The truth probably lies in the tension between the two.

I was out surveying the property today (that is, walking around in the yard, getting some fresh air), when I came across this pathetic little tree that somehow reminded me of Christmas. I think it was the little balls.

pathetic little treewinter fruit

I've always like this oak tree. It's one of many just beyond the property line, but it stands alone in a field. It's smaller than most of the others I can see around me, but it has a lot of personality. Today for the first time I got close enough to notice that it has a dilapidated tire swing hanging off one of the branches.

oak treetire swing

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Latest recommendations:

Liz, Flightless, November 30, A Loss of Love Story (I read Liz's entries out loud to myself, so much like poetry are they.)

Ellen Goodman's November 30 column makes sense to me. So little does these days.

Other recent recommendations can be found on the links page.
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